


need of you

by bigbootyborgias (grimgrace)



Category: The Borgias
Genre: F/M, Incest, but if you're watching the Borgias then you're probably fine with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimgrace/pseuds/bigbootyborgias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cesare doesn't know what to do with himself in the days following his encounter in Lucrezia's room, but she seems to have it all sorted out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	need of you

_**Prompt:** not sure if you deleted the prompt post because you decided not to do it anymore but i would love you forever if you wrote some awkward!Cesare (i'm not sure if we're going to get scenes of him all flustered and terrified of what happened before they get together but i really hope we do!!) Can you write some? I thought he was so cute when he was speechless :)_

* * *

 

 

The first time Cesare sees her, after _it_ happened that is, is when she’s sitting across the table from him. Their father has been nervous lately, the obvious reaction to an assassination attempt that hit so close to home. Rodrigo’s been keeping the family impossibly close lately, worried for their safety.

 

(Well, at least in the case of his mother and sister. Perhaps when it comes to him, Rodrigo simply wishes to keep an eye on him? His actions regarding Juan have suddenly thrown him in his father’s regard – Cesare isn’t sure what to expect of him anymore, of what he can suggest or ask for).  

 

Still they are family. So Rodrigo takes his hand before their meal, squeezing tightly as he, the Holy Pope of Rome, recites grace and blesses their food.

 

The point is though that it isn’t until after that, when everyone reaches for their cutlery and their father asks their mother something about her day, that Cesare actually _sees_ Lucrezia.

 

Ordinarily that kind of distance from her would be _difficult._ Painful certainly, and until now Cesare had never had reason or cause to stay away from his sister.

 

But then –

 

So when he entered the room he’d kept his eyes on the walls, on his shoes, on his mother or his father. He’d seen the base of her dress, a pale yellow that must have made her eyes look like gems from the New World. He’d seen her shows as well, slippers that matched the dress, delicately encasing her feet

 

(Oh god, he thinks of the silky smooth skin of her feet that he touched, held in his hand while his heart ached to reach out and touch her everywhere. He wondered if the rest of her was soft, knew that the rest would be so much softer. Maybe she tasted as sweet as her soul was, as pure and perfect as the sun and it’s suddenly like he’s a man starved of water and she’s the only source in the world)

 

His grip on the fork slips, clattering to the table and startling himself and both his parents. This is when he looks at her, he can’t not. He’s flustered and his heart is thumping in his chest.

 

Vanozza leans forward and rests her hand over his. “Cesare, are you well?” she checks, worried as she always is about her children.

 

And his eyes flick up, not to his mother but to his sister, sitting opposite him. All he wants to know is if she’s reacted, what she thinks, if she’s nearly as confused as he is.

 

(He thinks about her naked body, laid out on the bed ready for him. ‘ _Brother who loves me?_ ’ He thinks she’s probably not confused).

 

So he looks at her. His eyes meet hers and suddenly his mother’s concern is white noise in the back of his head.

 

She’s peeking up at him from under her delicate brow, her tiny hand holding her cutlery calmly. She’s watching him with a slight smirk to her face, the same smirk that always came before her perfect smile. He doesn’t know what it means – if she’s laughing at him or somehow for him – and it’s unnerving because he’s always been able to tell what Lucrezia was thinking.

 

When she catches his eye, her lips quirk further. She’s looking right at him; she’s clearly been looking longer than he has. She’s calm in a storm that’s wreaking havoc in his mind and he envies it – her surety. He is terrified, the threat of losing her too much to take this risk.

 

And yet in the face of the sheer _want_ that screams from every inch of his body (multiplied ten times over when he meets her eye), could he deny this?

 

(He’d certainly never been able to deny her anything).

 

She sets her spoon down, reaches for her cup. She lifts it to her lips slowly, carefully, her eyes never once leaving his. As she takes her slow sip, he doesn’t know where to begin feeling, let alone what feelings those might be. He feels overwhelmed and worried and nervous and _ecstatic_ all at once.

 

His throat has gone dry. His lips too.

 

Vanozza’s hand over his squeezes tightly. “Cesare?” She sounds more worried now, he thinks as he is brought instantly back to the present. He never wants to see his mother worried.

 

He manoeuvres his hand to hold his mothers, twisting it under hers and smiling thinly – it’s all he can manage right now, and it seems to satisfy her.

 

“I’m fine, mother.” He reassures her, his thumb moving across the back of her palm. He squeezes her hand back, and then pulls away. Picks up his fork from where it dropped. “There is nothing for you to worry about.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lucrezia is getting married. The protection that he feels for her, specifically now – another marriage for political gain, when the last one went _so wrong_ – was always hard to hide. No matter what happened between them, he would always be the one to protect her.

 

Should this husband fail her, he would cut out his heart as easily as he’d done the first one. Retribution would not be swift or kind, mercy was not a word any Borgia considered when family was threatened.

 

No matter his alliances, no matter the political gain of any marriage. Cesare would gut him like a pig if his sister so much as hinted that she wanted him to.

 

She hasn’t said anything though. She seems perfectly happy with Alfonso, excusing that time he revealed his purity vow to her and any events that may have followed. And their father is incredibly happy with the match, the alliance is crucial if Caterina Sforza continues on her rampage.

 

So they dance, and Cesare thinks that maybe, if he can control himself, things will go back to normal. He will not sabotage her chance at happiness, at a match that could result in love. He will not corrupt her.

 

(She is too pure, too innocent, and too perfect for the likes of him).

 

The first few moments they step around each other are silent. Another moment to take each other in, for Cesare to realise that he has no idea what she’s going to do. When did she become a mystery to him? He’d always been able to understand her.

 

“Your second wedding is grander than the first, Sis.” He says softly, lifting his hand so that his palm can touch hers.

 

They spin a perfect circle.

 

Lucrezia smiles tightly. “And hopefully the marriage will follow suit.” She moves her hand slightly, so that her finger runs down the length of his. He takes a breath as she laces their fingers together. “I hear you’re to be married off as soon as possible.”

 

Cesare nods, tries to keep his pulse in time. “It seems that without the Cardinal’s hat, I’ve caught a few eyes.”

 

Lucrezia lets out a laugh. “You caught enough with the hat, Brother.” She said lightly.

 

Cesare doesn’t know what to say to that. He thinks maybe she’s talking about Ursula, Ursula who was murdered for her devotion to God. But his sister has that smile on her face again, like she knows something that he doesn’t – so he isn’t sure.

 

(Perhaps she’s talking about herself? Cesare pushed that thought hastily from his mind).

 

“Father is saying France is best,” Cesare says.

 

Lucrezia raises a poised brow. “Another alliance for our fight with Caterina Sforza?”

 

Cesare smiles grimly. “The same.”

 

Lucrezia steps closer to him now, as the dance steps dictate. The rest of the dancers move with them, everyone women lifting their hand to rest it on their partner’s chest – but with the light touch of her palm Cesare feels that she is controlling the beat of his heart.

 

“And when you have your French wife,” Lucrezia says quietly, looking at his shoulder. “Will you leave her to fight Caterina Sforza?”

 

Cesare nods.

 

“And anyone else who threatens our family.”

 

Lucrezia curls a finger against his chest, and then steps back again. She dances underneath his arm and for a moment their conversation stops while they dance with new partners.

 

When she returns to him, she’s got more to say.

 

“Does war have so much to offer you, then Cesare?”

 

He is aware that people are watching them. Alfonso, Vanozza, even Rodrigo from his seat of honour. Somewhere in the crowd Guilia is probably observing as well. On top of that all the other people here, watching his family and just waiting for another scandal, a hint of weakness. They have more enemies in this room than they have friends. He fights to keep his confusion from his face.

 

“It offers me the chance to protect the ones I love, sis.” He says.

 

Lucrezia smiles, this time a soft resigned expression. Like she’d known what he was going to say but she’d been hoping for a different answer.

 

“But what if you never see the ones you love? Will your wife have to remember you with paintings while you fight in her name?” She asks.

 

“She will be alive. Safe.” Cesare says. This woman that they’re speaking of doesn’t exist – at least not in name yet. There is a French alliance to be made, so surely his future French wife is out there.

 

Lucrezia lifts her hand to lightly touch his cheek before they step away again. “And me, brother?” she asks softly. “Away in Naples? Will you fight for me?”

 

Cesare does not keep the emotion from his voice when he responds. “ _Always._ ”

 

Her smiles widens slightly. Like she’d known what he was going to say again – but this time she liked the answer far more.

 

“While I am in Naples and you are in France? Surely I’ll never see you – how could you protect me?”

 

The music finishes, the dance ends. Cesare leans forward and looks closer into his sister’s eyes. “Listen to me.” He says softly, careful to not get _too_ close. They’re at her _wedding_ , and rumours in Rome spread like wildfire. “I will always protect you. I would do anything you asked me to, just to see you safe. To see you happy.”

 

He touched the back of his finger to her cheek.

 

“ _Always._ ”

 

* * *

 

 

He goes to sleep early, retiring from the wedding as soon as it’s proper to do so. He has no desire to listen to the jeers and catcalls of the others, screaming for Alfonso to seal the wedding forever. Consummation is important, especially in light of the events surrounding Giovanni Sforza, but it is nothing that Cesare wants to think about.

 

The room is dark and he is half asleep when the door creaks open. Any other night and he would have leapt to his own defence.

 

But he knows who it is.

 

(Rather, he recognises the soft sound of her slippers on the stone, the pace as she steps lightly across the floor. As soon as she is close enough he can smell her, hear her soft breathing).

 

She reaches for the blanket that covers his back and pulls it down, her fingertips skimming the skin of his back lightly. Goosebumps follow in the wake of her touch.

 

She leans down, slowly, carefully – and presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

 

“Brother, I have need of you tonight. _Would you like to see me happy?_ ” 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was in response to the startling lack of fic in this fandom, I thought I could contribute a small part. And also, I'm desperate for the next episode and this is waying me over. In response to a prompt on tumblr :) Let me know what you thought! 
> 
> (also, I'm only really dipping my toe into the incest fic writing right now, but I'm getting more used to it, so expect more explicit material to come in the future)


End file.
